Paradox
by psquare
Summary: [ShippoKikyo] When the past embraces the future, history is born. [Oneshot]


**_Paradox_**

They call me a walking paradox.

They call me an undead devil, bent on blighting the pure Earth… a devil who suddenly seems to be a fallen angel, then an incomparably powerful miko, then… a wisp of the unsatisfied supernatural, clinging onto the life given by the terrible mistake of a dead evil.

But, when I consider it myself, I find myself to be all of these, and more.

Which makes me less than what others had thought I _ought_ to have been, before Inu Yasha ever came into my life.

Future, I find, is a very delicate balance. One's beliefs, thoughts, actions and experience – carefully cultivated over a period of many years – form the weight that balances both sides. And yet, it is the carelessly thrown, seemingly insignificant pebble that topples the balance, scattering one's meticulously planned future away, like autumn leaves in a strong breeze. How it is that the whim of a split second can change the fate of thousands for centuries!

That pebble came into existence in my life the moment I fell in love with Inu Yasha.

No, a _moment_ makes it too ordinary, and the word 'love', too simple. It had been a slowly cultivated understanding between the two of us, and the overwhelming desire to conquer our loneliness. We both had been bent over by the burdens that the cruel world had placed on us, and our 'love' would've provided the platform for us to share our onerous responsibilities.

It seems that History took it upon itself to show me the folly of my emotional decisions.

But still… would I have been happy if I had left Onigumo to die? Would I have been happy if I had killed Inu Yasha the moment I met him, the moment he looked into my eyes, the moment I had felt my heart flutter with that beautifully indescribable feeling?

Maybe not.

Even now, even after the decades since it had all happened, I still feel that what had happened… had happened for a purpose. I feel old enough, that I've suffered enough, _tired_ enough, to accept the evolution that has happened. Kagome has taken over my responsibility – and Inu Yasha's heart – and I have learned to accept that. I have come to recognize the threads of Fate that have brought Inu Yasha's seemingly diverse group together, and the role each of them play.

I am a stale breath of the past, witnessing the brilliant tempest of the future.

I look upon Inu Yasha's little group right now, watching from an indeterminable distance. The hanyou and his young priestess are engaged in an argument increasingly dominated by the miko, while the monk and the demon-slayer go about setting camp. The fire-cat purrs softly at something the young fox-demon has said to it, and the latter laughs. Suddenly his eyes grow wide, and he turns sharply – with great risk to the structure of his spinal cord – to me.

Raised eyebrows betraying my surprise, I move silently back into the foliage, gathering my power about me for concealment. Could the fox-demon sense me…?

Shippo twitches his nose in a bewildered fashion, and asks of Inu Yasha if he could sense anything. The hanyou frowns, then shrugs, expressing his failure at sensing anything of the sort. Are you hallucinating, he asks teasingly, to which Shippo only rolls his eyes, and turns away.

He _has_ sensed me.

I contemplate the young demon thoughtfully, new realisations showing themselves in front of me. They say experience is the best tutor in preparing you for the trials of life. In this respect, one could say that Shippo is the most powerful among them all. He has faced a number of trials in his short life already… separation from his family, living under the constant thread of being killed by any demon who comes across, a childhood of guilt, separation, pain, fear, revenge… a childhood not unlike…

Not unlike Inu Yasha's.

I start upon complete realisation of that arc of thought. _Not unlike Inu Yasha…_ I see it now. By taking care of Onigumo, and by falling in love with Inu Yasha, I had not just changed the destiny of those close to me, but I had made Inu Yasha be recognised as the _future_ of this wasted world. I suppose that, in a sense, I had already sensed his destiny the first time that I had met him – a lingering sense of excitement, of a passionate being destined for great things had clung like extra skin to his soul, and it had… it had attracted me.

I sense the very same in Shippo now.

A wealth of potential is inherent in his brave and innocent soul, and it… it attracts me. But it is not the same excitement that I had once felt with Inu Yasha, though. It stems from the solace my old and dead soul finds in his brave youth. The young demon has so much ahead of him – and so much behind him – but he remains a fountain of light, untainted as yet, by cruel Fate.

Perhaps one day Shippo would face his destiny, and he would realise the burden of Future he has to bear – become the pebble dropped in the _other_ side of the balance, to right the world once again. And perhaps, just perhaps…

I would be there to seal that destiny for him, as well.

I watch, mind brimming with emotion, as Shippo tries to catch Inu Yasha's attention once again. I think it was Kikyo I sensed, he says hesitantly. Inu Yasha looks at him with narrowed eyes, Kagome frowns, the monk and the demon-slayer stop their work and a tense silence descends upon the camp.

_I_ don't sense her, Inu Yasha says firmly. Kagome tries to give an admonishing snort to Shippo, but it ends up sounding more like a relieved chuckle. Of course they can't sense me. Only a pure soul, untainted with prejudice, and mal-judgement could see through my concealment.

Shippo shrugs helplessly, a petulant scowl flickering briefly across his face. His anger is soon forgotten, however, as he glances in the direction he knows I'm standing. For now, it seems that I am the only one who understands what he is meant to do in this world, and embraces the fact. I, being the past, will further Shippo's, who is the Future, destiny, just as I had done Inu Yasha's, all those years ago.

It seems anomalous that _I_, the spectre of a tragic past, reach these conclusions about Shippo, who has barely stared his life yet, but…

They call me a walking paradox, after all.

_**Finis**_


End file.
